


if you wanna get it big time

by alethea



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Athletes, Bad Decisions, Bad Sex, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-06 06:12:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11030295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alethea/pseuds/alethea
Summary: Hux really has better things to do. But doing nothing would be negligent.bad sex!AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title from yeasayer's tightrope
> 
> everything else is made up

It takes about a minute until Hux figures out he’s getting fucked to the bassline of _Bonkers_ of all things.  
After that he seriously considers pushing the guy currently on top of him away and leaving.  Which.  
It shouldn’t take him _that_ much longer, really.  
He’s already making weird noises that Hux generously interprets as him being close. Hopefully he’s close because this is doing absolutely nothing for Hux.  
There’s been some perfunctory groping before he had been flipped onto his stomach; and the prep’s been just enough so it doesn’t really hurt but.  
  
Hux is bored.  
  
Bored.  
  
So _fucking_ bored.  
  
He can wait it out. Shouldn’t be much longer now. Hopefully.  
  
_How_ is it possible to miss his prostate this consistently?  
  
The guy’s cock has been nice enough but he clearly has no idea what he’s doing.  
Downstairs the music changes into another yet equally lacklustre mainstream song and Hux snorts when the guy’s shitty rhythm is thrown off for twentyfive seconds.  
Yes, Hux counted.  
  
“You-- are you close?”  
  
Hux buries his face into the lumpy pillow and groans because he’s nowhere near close; he’s bored to tears. He settles for a neutral grunt instead because as sooner someone orgasms, the sooner Hux can get away and forget it ever happened.  
He bears the increasing grunts and the sweaty hand pawing at his hip until the guy collapses on top of him with a drawn-out moan and getting a mouthful of Hux’s hair for his efforts which makes him sputter.  
Serves him right.  
  
When Hux is finally free he doesn’t have to look around for his clothes; he carefully mapped out where he’d been divested of every single item during this disaster. It’s not like he didn’t have time to, nothing else was going to happen.  
  
“You can stay-- if you want.”  
  
Hux doesn’t turn around, slipping into his jeans instead. “I don’t.”  
  
“Okay.” There’s the distinct rustling of sheets against skin. “Can I get your number so we can--”  
  
Hux hastily buttons his shirt up, pats his pockets to check if his phone, wallet, and keys are still there -they are- and steps into his shoes. “You can’t."  
  
“Really?”  
  
Hux has to go before he does something stupid like drawing this guy a diagram or twelve on how good sex actually works. “Really.”  
  
If there’s anything else the guy has to say, Hux doesn’t hear it.  
  
He finds Phasma in record time and pulls her out of the house with minimal protesting and onto the streets towards to where she’s parked her car; he needs to get back home. Now.  
  
“It’s freezing.” Hux says because it is. It’s also drizzling lightly which doesn’t make it any better.  
  
“Where’s your jacket?” Phasma asks between drags from her cigarette.  
She’s still wearing her hat while Hux has no clue when or how he lost his own. The party was a dumb idea anyway. He could have done other, more important things.  
  
His jacket. Shit. Hux must have left it at the house somewhere.  
  
Shit.  
  
Hux is not going back there though. With his luck that guy is looking for him for reasons beyond his understanding.  
  
“I’m not going back there.”  
  
Phasma snorts. “Who did you fuck?”  
  
“Tall guy?” Hux shrugs and then righteous anger takes over. “He was terrible. Seriously. I’ve never been bored during sex before.”  
  
“Never?” Phasma steps the butt out on the pavement.  
  
“From start to finish.” Hux says, holding the door for her. “He was the only one enjoying himself, trust me.”  
  
Phasma takes the route to her place which means Hux isn’t going home tonight and it’s absolutely fine by him. It’s a shorter drive and he has some more complaining to do. Which he does.  
  
“How do you know these people again?”  
  
“Bad Fuck Guy specifically or the people in general?” Phasma asks with a smirk.  
  
“Never mind.” Hux says, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He’s cold but he’ll bear the loss of one jacket, not his favourite thank fuck, for never having to lay eyes on Bad Fuck Guy again.  
  
“Wait. No! Did you--” Phasma says suddenly into the quiet. She’s even grabbing his arm. “Tall guy? Broken nose, terrible hair? American?”  
  
Hux hadn’t paid much attention to the guy’s hair but he was definitely American, he isn’t sure about the nose. Hux was more focused on the arms and shoulders, which have been really nice, and obviously misleading advertisment.  
  
“Yes, why are you even--” Hux doesn’t get any further because Phasma is cackling like drunk hyena next to him. “What?”  
  
“This is amazing.” She says, still laughing, and tapping away furiously on her phone. “Bloody amazing.”  
  
“What is going on?”  
  
Phasma ignores him until they’re off the A57.  
  
*  
  
They’re brushing their teeth in the tiny cubicle that’s Phasma’s bathroom; and Phasma’s still grinning like she’s won the lottery.  
  
“I have tickets for the next match.” She says after spitting. “And you’re coming with me.”  
  
“What match?” Hux asks because Phasma follows all teams in and around the city religiously, and has enough connections and people owing her favours to get her hands on all kinds of tickets. She usually takes Hux to various concerts but rarely to any sport related events.  
  
“Against the Saints.”  
  
Hux racks his brain to match the name to a team and sport so he can think of a suitable exit strategy. Otherwise he’ll end up at a cricket game again and will actually suffer from brain damage. Hopefully it’s not cricket.  
  
“Cricket?”  
  
“Rugby. And our team are the--?”  
  
“I don’t care. I’m not going.” Hux says and spits. He’s tired and has had bad terrible sex on top of it all.  
  
“Sharks.” Phasma says with a shake of her head. “I raised you better than that.”  
  
“I’m not going.” Hux says and heads for the couch. He probably has to work anyway.  
  
“You are!”  
  
“No, I’ve got work!”  
  
* &*  
  
Hux doesn’t have to work on match day. The fact that he had to look up the schedule is a crime in itself but what Phasma doesn’t know she can’t use against him. Speaking of which, Hux needs to get to work or he’ll be in trouble with his supervisor. Again.   
Hux is ready to get out of the door, checking through his pockets first and then his bag. Everything’s right there where it’s supposed to be - his snacks for break, the book he’s not supposed to be reading, his thermos of tea - but his key card is nowhere to be found.  
He doesn’t panic because that never helped anybody; checking the bag and all his pockets again, his wallet, his other jacket, his bag again.  
Hux rummages through the closet looking for his other jacket-- the other jacket.  
  
His cheap, worn fleece jacket he usually wears for work.  
  
The one he left at the party.  
  
Fuck.  
  
Hux breathes. _FUCK.  
  
_ It doesn’t matter. He has still time, he can make it.  
  
Phasma laughs herself silly when Hux calls to ask which exit was closest to the house which Hux really doesn’t have time for.  
At least Phasma calls him back to tell him that the guy who threw the party - someone called Noah - and BFG should be at home too, if Hux is interested in a quick one.  
  
Hux is not.  
  
  
Of course it’s BFG who opens the door when Hux rings the doorbell, and Hux shouldn’t call him that but he won't ask for the guy's name now. Clearly it’s all Phasma’s fault.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
What on earth is he wearing?  
  
“What the fuck are you wearing?” It’s out of Hux’s mouth before he can stop it.  
  
BFG looks down at himself; bright purple shoes and a yellow fluoro shorts and t-shirt combo that’s hurting Hux’s eyes.  
  
“I was running.” BFG says after a moment, pointing over his shoulder. “Noah’s gym set-up is sick--”  
  
“I can see that.” Hux says quickly. “Phasma says you have my jacket?”  
  
BFG vanishes into the hallway for all but ten seconds, returning with the jacket.  
  
Hux kind of snatches it out his hand because if his key card is not in there he’ll be in deep shit.  
  
“Noah said you’d be by to pick it up.”  
  
“And here I am.” Hux mutters under his breath, relieved when he finally feels the card in the right breast pocket of the jacket.  
At least now he won’t get any shit for losing the damn card and having to go through the hassle of getting a replacement. Hux had to jump through those hoops once this year already and he’s not keen on a repeat performance. He’s still going to be late if he doesn’t get going though.  
  
BFG is looking at him with a weird expression on his face.  
  
“What?”  
  
“So-- do you like working at BulkSavers?”  
  
Hux looks down at his awful polo with the store name printed on its sleeve and the left side. What the hell is going on today?  
  
“Do I like working at BulkSavers?” Hux repeats but with a much needed dose of sarcasm. “Sure, I love it.”  
  
BFG looks confused now; clearly sarcasm is too much to handle for his little jock brain.  
  
“Do you want some coffee. I can make it to go.” BFG points over his shoulder again. “I just put on a fresh pot--”  
  
Hux needs a second to process that but for some reason he says, “Yes.”  
Because he’s an idiot and he’s already so fucking late.  
  
BFG takes this as his cue to turn around and walk down the hallway towards where Hux remembers the kitchen being. It didn’t leave that much of an impression with all the terrible sex.  
BFG’s thighs are as ridiculous as Hux remembers though and it’s just so unfair.  
  
“Do you need milk or sugar? We have cream too, I think?” BFG asks while pouring coffee into a thermos.  
  
Hux scowls when he sees that it’s a reuseable one. Which means he has to return it. At some point. In the far future. “Just a splash of milk.”  
  
“Okay.” BFG grins at him when he opens the massive fridge to retrieve a glass bottle of what boasts to be a fancy organic milk that’s definitely not sold at BulkSavers.  
  
“Thanks.” Hux says, reaching out to get his damn unnecessary coffee and get the hell of here.  
  
BFG somehow pulls him in and against his chest. “I really want to kiss you.”  
  
“Oh fucking--”  
  
And that’s all Hux gets out before he’s assaulted by BFG’s mouth and way too much spit and teeth.  
Hux digs his nails into BFG’s absurd arms but that only seems to encourage him which is not what Hux wants, for fucks sake.  
Clearly BFG isn’t any better at this when he’s sober which-- which Hux doesn’t care about because he’s been here and done that, and now he’s got to get to his shitty job and leave.  
Hux manages to free himself between one breath and the next, “I have to go.”  
  
He goes, and he goes with the damn coffee because after this, he’s definitely earned it.  
  
BFG trails behind him like a lost puppy.  
  
“Can’t you call in sick or something?”  
  
Hux whirls around. “I can’t because I am a responsible--”  
  
BFG drops to his knees.  
  
In the hallway.  
  
“What are you doing?” Hux asks, gritting his teeth because he knows what this is.  
  
“Can I blow you?”  
  
Hux lets his head fall back against the wall. “Can you?”  
  
BFG looks stricken for half a second but then his hands come up to undo Hux’s belt and stupid work khaki pants.  
“I want to,” He says seriously, shoving Hux’s underwear out of the way. “I really want to.”  
  
“Get to it.” Hux says before he can change his mind and do the right thing because what is he even doing. This doesn’t make any sense.  
  
“Yes, sir.” BFG says with a dirty grin and gets to it.  
  
Hux closes his eyes because he can’t look; the fluorescent yellow isn’t doing BFG any favours and it’s BFG who is somewhat trying but--  
Yeah, this isn’t working.  
Hux can’t do much with his hands holding his jacket and that dumb thermos and he can’t leave his keycard again.  
  
BFG hums, nuzzles against Hux’s hip and takes both the jacket and the thermos and puts them onto the floor next to Hux. “All good?”  
  
Nothing is good and--  
  
Hux grunts in shock when BFG swallows him down to the root and stays there like oxygen is optional for him.  
There’s nothing else to do now but grasp at BFG’s head and hold the fuck on.  
  
BFG groans, closes his eyes for a moment and finally pulls off before looking up at Hux. “You can be rough.”  
  
“Yeah?” Hux breathes out, voice unreasonably high.  
  
“I like it.”  
  
Hux bites backs another whimper and pushes BFG back down.  
At least now Hux has the chance to actually come which is a vast improvement to two nights ago.  
BFG lets himself pushed and pulled and held down and only hums encouragingly when Hux digs his fingers in and twists.  
It has to hurt but there’s only a stutter in BFG’s breathing and the occasional moan.  
  
Hux is so fucking close--

“Come in my mouth.”  
  
Hux isn't affected. At all. “Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” BFG grins and goes back to sucking hard at the head.  
  
Hux comes.  
  
&  
  
_“Did you get it?”  
  
_ Hux feels his cheeks go hot but Phasma can’t see him and she’s talking about the damn key-card anyway. He takes another drag from his cigarette.  
Thank fuck the employee smoking area is empty. “Yeah, I did.” _  
  
"You whore!”  
  
_ “What?”  
  
Phasma cackles with glee. _“Noah called me the moment he found his rookie tossing off in the bathroom with your come all over his face.”  
  
_ “He-- he did what?”  
  
_"You’re not the type to leave a guy hanging, Hux. You’re better than this.”  
  
_ “If anything he owed me one.” Hux grinds out. “We’re even now.”  
  
_“You are so coming to the match with me tomorrow.”  
  
_ Hux scoffs. “I have work.”  
  
_“You don’t. I called Tanya earlier.”  
  
_ Hux hates his goody-two-shoes coworker. “She’s a compulsive liar.”  
  
_“We could win this, with certain players properly motivated, you know.”  
  
_ “ _We_ are not winning anything.” Hux flicks his cigarette at the ash-tray and misses. “I have to work--”  
  
_“Noah says the rookie is smitten,”_ Phasma says, _“With you.”  
  
_ “So?”  
  
_"You must be one hell of a fuck, darling.”  
  
_ Hux wants to hit someone. Or something. “It was terrible. Bad fucking sex. Never again.”  
  
Phasma sighs. _“He’s asking Noah for date ideas after he--"  
  
_ “No,” Hux says with feeling. “I call you later.”  
  
_"Sure.”_ Phasma says and hangs up.  
  
Hux kicks the ash-tray and heads back inside. There are shelves to stock and customers to ignore until they go away and bother someone else.  
  
&  
  
Hux is poking at the remains of his dinner - scrambled eggs and toast - and flicking through his skybox when his phone rings.

“Phasma--”  
  
_“Hux?”  
  
_ “Yes?”  
  
_"It’s me-- Ben? Ben Solo-- we-- uh-- had--uhm--”  
  
_ “Who is this?”  
  
_"Ben--”  
  
_ “Wrong number, pet. Good night.” Hux says and hangs up.  
  
What a day, seriously.  
  
  
His phone rings again about five minutes later. This time it’s Phasma so Hux answers.  
  
“Hey.”  
  
_"Hux, darling.”_ Phasma says, voice saccharine sweet. _“Please tell me you are aware of BFG’s name--”  
  
_ “No. I am not.” Hux says. “BFG is all the information I need, regardless of his deepthroating abilities. Which is not the end and be all of a good blowjob.”  
  
Phasma starts laughing. _“Classy.”  
  
_ “Thank you.” Hux says blithely. “And I am not interested in a repeat performance because he’s a shit kisser, too. Did I tell you that?”  
  
_“You didn’t, but do go on.”_ Phasma says. _“Tomorrow, when you are at the match with me.”  
  
_ “We are not talking about my bad decision making in public.”  
  
_“Since when?”  
  
_ Hux grumbles because she has a point. “Why do I need to go? You have other friends.”  
  
_“You are the friend I want to take.”  
  
_ “And I don’t want to. Don’t make me.” Hux isn’t above pleading. “People spoke to me to today because I was carrying that fucking thermos--”  
  
_"How dare they?!”  
  
_ “I know!” Hux says. “Like I know shit about cricket--”  
  
_“Rugby.”  
  
_ Hux sighs heavily. “Don’t make me go.”  
  
_“Alright darling.”_ Phasma concedes. _“But if you’re not going, I can give BFG your number--”  
  
_ “No!” Hux shouts and jumps off the couch in near panic. “Phasma, no!”  
  
_“He will be so pleased to take you out, wine and dine you--”  
  
_ “Stop it--”  
  
Phasma tuts at him. _“You know, you’ve already had sex with him.”  
  
_ “And it was terrible.”  
  
_“And it was terrible.”_ Phasma repeats dutifully. _“Having dinner with him won’t hurt. You can let him down gently which I know you are capable of. Claim you have nothing in common. Problem solved.”  
  
_ “We have nothing in common.”  
  
_“See, all done.”  
  
_ Damn Phasma for making it sound logical. Hux used to like that about her.  
  
Hux takes a deep breath for strength. “Alright, you can give him my number.”  
  
_“Excellent.”_ She says, clearly smiling now. _“Just remember not to fuck him again.”  
  
_ “I am perfectly able of not fucking him, thank you.”  
  
_“Sure.”  
  
_ Hux hangs up on her.  
  
  
When he checks his phone before going to bed there’s a message from Phasma.

_BFG has your #, be gentle when he calls xxx_

It’s followed by a phone number and a name.

_Ben Solo._

FUCK.


	2. Chapter 2

“You have to check with information for that, sir.” Hux repeats for the fourth time but the esteemed customer won’t stop waving his receipt at Hux’s face. “I can’t help with returns. Information deals with all returns.”  
  
“But you are here now.”  
  
“I am aware of that; but as you can see I am currently pricing out BulkSavers’ Dandy Dinner cat food by the dozen and unless you are interested in purchasing,” Hux looks at the badly photoshopped cat printed on the tin, “Dandy Dinner Luscious Lamb Chunks in Juicy Jelly, I kindly ask you to head to the information desk located on the left by the check-out with your concerns. My colleagues will be pleased to help you.” Hux keeps his customer smile plastered on his face throughout all of this even though it’s getting painful.  
  
“I already asked.” The man replies. “Your colleague wasn’t helpful at all.”  
  
Right, Allan’s on information today. Shit.  
  
“Let me call my supervisor.” Hux says, unclipping the clunker of a work phone from his belt. “I am sure we can figure this out.”  
  
*  
  
“Allan is looking for you.” Tanya says when she ducks outside after Hux for a quick smoke.  
  
It’s not quite time for Hux’s break yet but he needs a bloody moment. “Allan can go fuck himself.”  
  
“He’s pissed.”  
  
“He has a fucking job to do.” Hux replies, offering his lighter to her. “He needs to shut his fucking mouth and do it.”  
  
Tanya hums in response. “I didn’t put him on info.”  
  
“Wilkes does.” Hux sighs and rolls his shoulders slowly. He has three more pallets to unload and price out. “You okay in dry goods?”  
  
“Ha! That’d be a fucking miracle.” Tanya spits out. “Maksym is still sick and they’re dragging their feet getting some RPE from HQ.”  
  
“And you are surprised how?”  
  
Tanya doesn’t reply which is telling enough. “Didn’t know you’re a Sharks fan.”  
  
“I am not.” Hux says, because he’s an idiot for taking the thermos back to work with coffee today, but it’s a really good thermos. His coffee is shit though, probably because Noah buys something overpriced and fancy. “It’s a good thermos.”  
  
“Phasma says you’re going to the match with her.”  
  
“You need stop giving her my private information.” Hux says, blowing smoke at her face. “And I am not going. Wilkes’ll be putting up the revised schedule soon, which will fuck up everything anyway.”  
  
“So we’re not getting a RPE.”  
  
“Nope.” Hux grins at her, all teeth. “Unpaid overtime it is.”  
  
“Fuck this.” Tanya says, flicking the cigarette into the ash-tray. “Come on, if we run into Allan I want you eviscerate him right in front of me.”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
*  
  
Phasma shows up in the evening with the traditional carrier bag of cheap white wine and beer to wash down the pizza Hux picks up on his way home from work.  
  
She greets him with, “We lost. It was a mess. I blame you.”  
  
Hux closes the door behind her. “Anything else?”  
  
“BFG didn’t play but he made a pretty benchwarmer--”  
  
“I didn’t ask, did I?”  
  
Phasma looks at him, “He hasn’t called yet, has he?”  
  
“I don’t care.” Hux says and takes the three steps into the kitchen.  
  
“Interesting.”  
  
“It’s really not.”  
  
Phasma gets two glasses and unscrews the cap from the bottle. “He’s probably busy. Next match’s against the Falcons. And he’ll be sent down to the Jets anyway.”  
  
“I don’t care.”  
  
“It’s the Falcons. We hate them.”  
  
“And _I_ really do not care.”  
  
Phasma trades a slice of pizza for a glass of wine with a smile that promises more of the same. Hux eats because eating means not talking and he really doesn’t want to talk about anything related to BFG right now. Or ever.  
  
Phasma grants him a reprieve of only one slice. “It bothers you, doesn’t it?”  
  
“No.” Hux grinds his teeth exactly like he isn’t supposed to, according to his dentist.  
  
“Sure.” Phasma clinks her glass to his but she knows when to stop, most times. “Tanya told me you made Allan cry.”  
  
Thankful for the change of topic, Hux says, “You know she’s a compulsive liar.”  
  
“But he did cry.”  
  
“It was close.”  
  
Phasma nods proudly and pours more wine. “Next time.”  
  
  
Hux takes the bottle from Phasma and drains the last of it. Some weird artsy movie that would have interested Hux when he was at uni and pretending to be different is playing on mute.  
Phasma is close to falling asleep on his shoulder.  
It’s nice. It’s quiet.  
They are going to regret it tomorrow morning but they haven’t learned yet.  
  
“You know what you should do,” Phasma starts and pauses.  
Never a good sign.  
  
“What?”  
  
“You should call.”  
  
Hux sighs. “You know I won’t.”  
  
“Because you’re an asshole.”  
  
“Because I am an asshole, yes.” Hux pets her hair gently. “Besides, what do I want with a cricket--”  
  
“Rugby.” Phasma swats at his chest and hits his chin instead.  
  
“--sports person anyway?”  
  
“You’d call if he worked at BulkSavers?”  
  
“No!” Hux says. “Only assholes work there, you know that.”  
  
Phasma sits up and ruins Hux’s carefully arranged resting position on his saggy couch. “That’s your problem? Really?”  
  
Hux pulls a face at her. “I didn’t want to mention the bad no-good terrible sex again but thanks for reminding me.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
“Exactly.” Hux says eventually. He needs a smoke and sleep. In that order. “Smoke?”  
  
Phasma waves him off and heads towards the bathroom when Hux opens the door to the ledge that functions as a balcony.  
  
He’s halfway through his second cigarette when his phone rings. Of course.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
_“Hi. It’s Ben-- Ben Solo. From uhm-- last week--”  
  
_ Hux takes pity on him. “Hey. Phasma told me she gave you my number.”  
  
_“Yeah.”_ Another pregnant pause. _“That was nice-- nice of her. To ask you.”  
  
_ “Everything okay?” Hux asks because he can’t think of anything else to say. Good thing BFG-- Ben doesn’t know it's his customer voice.  
  
_“You-- you left really fast. Last time.”  
  
_ Hux takes a long drag from his cigarette. “I told you I was late for work. Even before you decided my cock needed sucking.”  
  
_“Uh-- right.”_ Ben says quietly. _“Did you get into trouble?”  
  
_ “No.” Hux says because he didn’t. At this point Wilkes is just glad if Hux shows up. “I had car trouble because my car’s a piece of shit. Everyone knows that.”  
  
_“So you lied.”  
  
_ “You got a problem with that?” Hux asks, digging around for his pack because he needs more nicotine to get through this. Any more wine is out of the question and also out of reach.  
  
_“No._ _You make me nervous.”  
  
_ Huh. Hux didn’t expect that. But it’s flattering, sort of. Though Hux doesn’t want to be flattered or anything. “And why’s that?”  
  
_“Would you like to go out? For dinner?”_ Ben blurts out. _“With me.”  
  
_ Hux rolls his eyes at the night sky. “Sure.”  
Just one date and it’ll be horrible and Hux won’t ever have to deal with Ben again. Simple.  
  
_“Really?”  
  
_ “Did you want me to say no?”  
  
_“No-- no, of course not.”_ Ben says quickly. _“Yes is-- yes is good.”  
  
_ “Okay.” Hux replies slowly. If Ben continues to be such an inspiring conversationalist, the date will ruin itself and Hux won’t have to do much. Excellent.  
  
_“When’s good for you?”  
  
_ Hux tries to recall his schedule but he’s had a lot of wine. “I’ll be on the six to three shift for the next four days or so, but that can change any minute so I have to check tomorrow to make sure.”  
  
Ben hums in what sounds like understanding. _“That’s okay. Noah said Soughi on Old Burnham Road is a great--”  
  
_ “I can’t afford to eat there.” Hux says because Soughi is over the top and ridiculously expensive. It’s a _serious_ date restaurant. People go there to propose. Just no.  
  
“ _I’m inviting you.”  
  
_ “It’s ostentatious and overpriced.” Hux says evenly. “I’d feel uncomfortable.”  
  
_“I’ll ask Noah if he’s got any other ideas.”_ Ben amends. _“Can I call you tomorrow?”  
  
_ “Anytime after four is fine.” Hux says. “If I am not answering, I am still at work.”  
  
_“Thank you.”  
  
_ “What for?”  
  
_“I’ll call you tomorrow. Sleep well.”  
  
_ Hux sighs, “You too. Good night,” And hangs up without waiting for a reply.  
  
  
Phasma’s already in bed, face illuminated by her phone. “How did it go?”  
  
“You told him to call.” Hux narrows his eyes at her. “Stop meddling.”  
  
“You’ll survive one dinner with him.”  
  
Hux changes into his pyjama pants with minimal stumbling. “He suggested we go to Soughi.”  
  
“Fancy!” Phasma says cheerfully, “Of course you’ll go.”  
  
“I’m not.” Hux says, yawning. “He’ll call tomorrow though.”  
  
“How dreadful,” Phasma says while getting comfortable on Hux’s better pillow. “Do you need me to call Noah to--”  
  
“No. Stop.” Hux doesn’t like where this is going. "You'll make it worse."  
  
“Never.” She pats his cheek. “Night darling.”  
  
Hux exhales and closes his eyes. “Night.”  
  
  
* &*  
  
Hux is driving back to Noah’s house to pick up Ben for their date because Ben doesn’t have a car yet.  
Or an international driving license.  
Or Noah’s approval of not being a hazard on the road.  
  
Hux really questions his sanity for agreeing to any of this when he’d much rather be at home and do laundry or something productive. Instead he’s driving through the city during the worst of the commuter traffic in a shirt he didn’t have the time to iron properly because Allan is the worst of all and a wanker on top.  
The engine of his Astra protests against the sudden gear change when Hux nearly misses the exit in his righteous anger.  
  
When he finally comes to a stuttering stop in front of Noah's driveway, Ben’s already standing outside with him and he looks faintly amused at Ben’s wave.  
Probably he’s just laughing at Hux’s car.  
  
Ben yanks the passenger door open on the first try and folds himself into the seat. “Hi.”  
  
“Hey.” Hux says and ignores Noah’s thumps-up. “He’s okay with this?”  
  
“Okay with what?”  
  
“You going on a date.” Hux clarifies. “With me.”  
  
Ben shrugs. “Noah’s cool. All the guys’ve been cool so far.”  
  
Hux exhales. “Lucky you.”  
  
“They’ve known when they offered me a contract. I haven't made it a secret.” Ben shrugs again. “So yeah.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Ben looks at him and Hux does his damnedest to focus on the road.  
Better get Ben used to the painfully awkward silences because Hux is going to make it impossible to spend more than an hour with him. Ben’s mind will be made up before they even finished their respective starters - Hux wants starters and he’s not in a sharing mood - and he’ll take a taxi back rather than spending another moment with Hux.  
  
“How was work?”  
  
Hux grips the steering wheel harder than necessary. Work was shit with Allan’s continued delusions about his own importance and general lack of humanity. “Work was work. Busy.”  
  
Ben nods along. “And?”  
  
“And nothing.” Hux says. “Have you ever worked in a chain store?”  
  
“I mowed lawns for our neighbours when I was fourteen.”  
  
“Right.” Hux snorts. “It’s a job, it pays the bills.”  
  
Ben leans forward as much he can and Hux spares him a sideway glance. Ben’s profile is somewhat severe but not unpleasant, if Hux is honest with himself. It’s interesting. He’s all legs and nose though. Like a stork.  
  
“You’re smiling.”  
  
“That happens sometimes, no need to worry.” Hux says lightly, and this might be interpreted as flirting. Which isn’t what he’s doing.  
  
“I like it.”  
  
“You don’t have to butter me up. We already fucked.”  
  
Ben says, “I am not. I mean-- I know we--”  
  
“I know what you meant.” Hux says and turns up the volume on the radio. “It’s okay.”  
  
Ben holds out throughout the entirety _Moptop_ before saying, “You make me really nervous.”  
  
Not this again. Please. Hux can only take so much.  
  
“I’m really hungry now.” Hux says and doesn’t change the station even though he can’t stand _Kick Jump Twist_.  
  
*  
  
Dinner isn’t half bad which means that the food is really good and Ben takes all of Hux’s short answers with an unwavering zen-like patience. It's annoying.  
Ben’s own stories manage to be marginally amusing and somehow he’s not boring Hux too much.  
  
They are having dessert too. Ben insists that Hux have one, or two if he likes.   
Hux inhales his slice of praline apple tart while Ben smiles at him and sips at his coffee.  
  
“That’d kill me, honestly.” Hux says because fuck diets.  
  
“I have to stay in shape.” Ben says and keeps smiling like he knows that Hux remembers exactly what he looks like naked.  
  
“Sure.” Hux scoffs because of course he does. “Keep telling that yourself.”  
  
“Training is easier if I eat right.”  
  
“Boring.”  
  
Ben’s smile is softer when he says, “I’ll just have to take you out on a cheat day.”  
  
Hux doesn’t say anything and applies himself to the leftover whipped cream on his plate. Ignorance is best and all.  
  
  
Ben pays and grossly over-tips their waiter.

  
Ben leans over and kisses him when Hux fumbles with the car keys like an amateur.  
He tastes like coffee and Hux doesn’t like it because he’s still shit at kissing. Fucking hell. Of course he wouldn’t have improved over the span of a few days without rigorous practice--  
  
“Hey-- Ben--”  
  
“Yeah.” Ben whispers and grins like this is the best thing he’s done all day.  
  
He’s so wrong about that.  
  
“Ben--” Hux starts.  
  
“Stay with me tonight.”  
  
Hux knows better than that and he's definitely not staying at Noah's place. “My shift starts at six.”  
Not the best excuse in the world but a valid one, and true too.  
  
“Take me home with you then.” Ben says, kissing wetly down Hux’s jaw.  
  
This is such a bad idea, and Hux wants a tissue. Now.  
  
“This isn’t a good idea.”  
  
Ben shudders, putting his too heavy skull on Hux’s shoulder. “Hux-- please--”  
  
“What?”  
  
Ben stares at him, eyes dropping down to Hux’s mouth.  
  
Hux kisses him. Properly. Like this is something he wants to do.  
Ben goes soft and pliant; fingertips shaking against Hux’s neck and lets Hux kiss him without a fight. Which improves the experience infinitely.  
  
Ben whines low when Hux pulls away. “Hux--”  
  
"Okay." Hux has lost all common sense.  
  
  
Hux is halfway on his way home, fiddling with the radio again because he needs to-- Ben takes his hand away from the volume button and holds it. In his lap.  
  
“I need that.” Hux says.  
  
“Just a minute.”  
  
“I need to change gears.” He doesn’t right now but it’s the principle of the thing.  
  
Ben lets it go with a sigh.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Hux takes Ben home.  
  
  
_This is such a bad idea._  
  
  
“Not a word.” Hux says, unlocking the front door. “I know it’s shitty.”  
  
Ben looks around Hux’s tiny hallway with what seems like genuine interest. “It’s-- it’s nice.”  
  
“It’s shit.” Hux repeats because he hasn’t planned on bringing Ben back here. Ever.  
  
“No.” Ben says, stepping over the laundry basket filled with Hux’s work clothes. “It looks like a home.”  
  
Hux rolls his eyes at him. “Fucking hell.”  
  
“I never had my own place. It’s been always rooms at school or training camps.” Ben doesn’t look away from Hux’s collection of concert tickets pinned to the kitchen door frame. “I like it. I really like your place.”  
  
Hux doesn’t know what to do with that. Also, Ben sounds painfully young just now. Fuck. “Come on then.”  
  
Ben stares at him.  
  
“That’s what you’re here for--” Hux says, kicking the bedroom door open because he might as well get it over with.  
  
Ben is on him between one breath and the next, his hands on Hux’s hips and thighs and nearly lifting Hux up into his arms.  
Which is plain undignified and thus not happening.  
  
“Don’t you dare--” Hux snarls into their kiss.  
  
Ben laughs against his lips. “One day.”  
  
“Never.” Hux means it.  
  
  
“No-- don’t.” Hux bites out, focusing on getting into position. “Don’t move.”  
  
Ben stills instantly, eyes fixed on Hux. “Yeah-- yeah.”  
  
Hux is sweaty and his hair is a mess because Ben can’t stop touching him anywhere he can reach. There are going to be bruises on Hux’s thighs.  
  
“Give me a moment--just--” Hux whispers when he’s fully seated and yes, Ben’s cock is nice enough when Hux is on top.  
  
“Whatever you want-- fuck--” Ben mutters, sweaty hands finally coming to a halt on Hux’s hips. He’s breathing hard, gasping for air.  
  
Hux grins because Ben’s flushed red all over and shaking with the effort not to move. “Good.”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” Positive reinforcement, and all that. Hux lifts up slowly, drawing it out. “Really good.”  
  
Ben swallows, throat moving visibly. “Fuck.”  
  
Hux leans forward onto his hands, onto Ben’s ridiculous chest and moves down again. He’s going to take this as slow as he likes and Ben can’t do shit about it. Hux made sure to shut down any and all attempts of Ben trying to be in charge.  
  
“Hux-- I-- can you--” Ben breathes out, trailing his hands up over Hux’s spine so lightly it feels like it’s not enough and too much at the same time. He cups Hux’s face gently, thumbs soothing over Hux’s cheeks. “I need you--”  
  
It's too much. Hux kisses him only to shut him up even though his jaw feels sore. He spend a lot of time this evening kissing Ben.  
  
Ben grunts, shudders and--  
  
Hux bites at his lip hard to distract him.  
  
“Fuck- fuck--fuck--”  
  
Well shit. Hux drops his head hard onto Ben’s shoulder. He knows but he asks anyway, “Did you just come?”  
  
Ben nods, makes a noise that sounds almost like a sob. “Hux-- I--”  
  
“Fuck.” Hux says with feeling.  
  
“Sorry--” Ben starts petting his shoulder. “Hux-- I can--”  
  
Hux flinches when he moves but at least he gets away from this mess and Ben staring at him with wet eyes. What the hell.  
  
“Hux--”  
  
“I’m going to shower.” Hux says and walks out awkwardly because somehow he’s still hard and this day just keeps getting worse. He needs a smoke right after.  
  
The water takes a while to warm up as usual but Hux doesn’t mind because it takes care of his dick at least.  
Hux just stands under the uneven spray of the calcified shower head and stares unseeing at the nearly empty bottle of shampoo. He needs to put that on the grocery list, along with some milk. He’s almost out of dish soap too.  
  
Ben walks into the bathroom and opens the trashcan to dispose of the condom.   Hux is strangely angry that he didn’t just throw it somewhere onto the bedroom floor like other people do.  
  
The shower curtain moves and Ben stands there and looks awkward with his weird face and limp dick.  
  
“You’re letting all the cold air in.”  
  
Ben steps into the shower but he doesn’t crowd Hux against the tiles. The spray is barely enough to reach his stomach.  
  
Hux frowns at it. It’s as ridiculous as his chest and thighs and arms.  
  
“Hux--”  
  
“It doesn’t matter.” Because this is the last time.  
  
Ben takes his hands, holds them and then leans in, eyes never leaving Hux’s face as if he’s waiting to be pushed away and--  
  
Hux gasps into the kiss.  
  
Right now it’s kind of perfect.  
  
_Fuck._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well... that escalated quickly. How did that happen?
> 
> Updates might be fewer as we're getting close to my sister's wedding. Family comes first and all :D
> 
>  
> 
> RPE = reserve pool employee


End file.
